38 THE PASSANGERANG. 



residences of the principal people, and the roads 

 diverge from it in every direction. 



As soon as we came on the square or " alang" of 

 Lamajang, we turned short to the right, and galloped 

 by a broad road of beautiful green turf, to the pas- 

 sangerang or guest-house, about a quarter of a mile 

 distant. Here we found the native chief, whose 

 title was Rongo, waiting to receive us with a troop 

 of attendants, and as soon as we had dismounted, he 

 led us to a table covered with fruits and cakes, 

 while tea and glasses of cocoa-nut water were 

 handed to us. This, however, was merely a whet, 

 for as soon as we had bathed and changed our 

 dresses, we found a smoking hot breakfast awaiting 

 us, of curries, pilaus, beefsteaks, spatch cocks, and 

 a superabundance of other dainties, served up in 

 excellent style with glass, plate, blue finger-glasses, 

 and snow-white napkins ; in short, all the luxuries 

 of the East mingled with the elegancies of the West. 

 The Rongo, after asking permission to be seated at 

 table in our presence, and partake of his own enter- 

 tainment, did the honours in excellent style. 



This place was, if possible, still more pleasant 

 and delightful than that of Klakka. The house, 

 however, was smaller, and had only three bedrooms, 

 with two others in a detached building, a little 

 removed from it. It stood a little outside of the 

 town, on the edge of a grassy bank that sloped 

 down into a small valley, through which the brook 

 ran before it entered the narrow ravine below. This 



